Story:DragonSoul/Chapter 4
='M'''iles and Tribulations= (DSS) Noelle, sweating slightly in her overlarge plum-covered robes on this hot day, looked over to the bench of jurors with her cheek resting on one fist. The twelve members of the jury returned the same look of bemusement and awe. She could tell that the poor man was exactly that: a destitute man from Enissia's Lowtown and therefore uneducated, and as such didn't expect him to know how to behave in a court of law. However, she would have expected him to possess even an iota of common sense when to protecting his name. Adjusting the pince-nez that clamped uncomfortably to the bridge of her nose, Noelle turned back to the defendant and spoke quietly. "I would advise against the defendant to give such blatant admissions of guilt when in fact a plea of not guilty was submitted. I would also advise against speaking out of turn in this courtroom. Having said that, I believe we have -" At that exact moment, a tumultuous roar rose from outside, breaking Noelle off mid-sentence. Heads turned towards the direction of the noise, some people stood up, and murmurs started to erupt from the gathering. Noelle, gathering up her gavel and banging it against the wooden block, tried to keep composure whilst calling for order, though her tiny voice didn't exactly ooze with might. "O-Order! Order in the court! If everyone could please just -" The Magistrate was interrupted a second time, this time by a bloodcurdling feminine scream that sent the hairs on the back of Noelle's neck to stand up. Why did the voice sound familiar? ''"Egh, no time to think about that now!" Banging her gavel more furiously now, she stood up and projected her voice as best she could. "Recess! I am calling a recess! Everyone evacuate in an orderly fashion; guards, stay with the defendant!" Naturally, the crowd did nothing of the sort and rushed en masse, scratching and clawing away at one another, towards the back doors of the court, the furthest away from the commotion outside where now more screams and the clashing of swords could be heard. Noelle was relegated to hiding behind the bench while the general assemblage filed out, sitting with her arms embracing her knees. She was terrified about what sort of riot was going on outdoors and if it would spill indoors. Surprising Noelle slightly and eliciting a squeak from her was the sudden appearance of a black-gloved hand, followed by a bearded face - one of the Royal Guard. "Come with me, Your Royal Highness, we must make haste -" Yet however the guard was interrupted by a white-gloved hand that was laid on his shoulder, making him turn to see a figure Noelle yet couldn't. "You are relieved, good sire. I'll take her up from here." Spoke the second familiar voice she had heard in the last one hundred and twenty seconds. "But Your Royal Highness, this -" "I said you are to take your leave!" Replied the second voice, with a fair bit of agitation. Taking a step backwards, the guard gave a stiff and wordless bow as he made his own exit. The familiar voice now spoke to Noelle directly. "We must indeed make haste, but I'd rather not leave it in any hands but my own." The white-gloved figure now took his turn to poke his head under the bench, and Noelle's face lit up with relief first, followed by adoration at the sight of the sandy-haired, chiseled yet cheery face. "Rodger!" she squealed, getting up too hastily and knocking her head on the underside of the bench. "Ooh! Oh! Watch it there now!" Exclaimed the Prince as he scooped up Noelle and gave her a solid embrace. "Are you alright?" Noelle, who had lost her pince-nez due to the force of the blow, returned the embrace as she buried her face in his chest, it having turned a particularly impressive shade of red. She was rather grateful her faux pas was hidden to any stragglers by the large bench. "I'm fine, let's just...let's leave." She moused. Rodger, not missing a beat, lifted her chin up and flashed his trademark brilliant smile. "I'm all ears, my lovely." Taking her hand in his, he began to lead her away as they both hurried out the courtroom's back doors and in the opposite direction of the ever-increasing clamor. Noelle felt her fear drain away as the noise level started to lessen. As long as she was with Rodger, she was going to be alright. ---- (Yuan) Rodger sat down on the seat next to her, grinning. Noelle stared at him incredulously - she was still wondering exactly how he had managed to find her, not to mention get to her location within minutes of the riot outbreaking. "I study the court schedules, you know." Rodger threw out this line casually as he shrugged, as if he could predict what she was about to ask. He had led Noelle through the lower atrium of the palace and into an older unused side chamber, which was filled top to bottom with musty unused furniture and random broken knickknacks - a room where a private conversation could be held without fear of being overheard. "I suppose some things never change then, hm?" A cute smile broke across her face, there was little he could do to make her actually cross with him. After all, they had known each other for too long for such simple things to foster negative feelings. Too long indeed... Noelle could remember as if it were only yesterday. The two of them had known each other since before they could actually remember, but they really started to grow close during their school days. Noelle had moved to Enissia from her home in Dendereaux when she was 12 years old to begin school at the Royal Military Akademy of Ennis. It was the toughest, most prestegious school a young person could attend and very few were accepted, but the children of the Royal Family were required to attend. This was no problem for Rodger, but Noelle, who was a rather frail and pacifistic child, had trouble adjusting. Rodger, six years her senior, and a popular 18 year old at the time, was in his senior year when Noelle had started. He noticed his cousin having quite a bit of difficulty with the physical demands of the Akademy, but Noelle had been too shy to ask for help. Taking it upon himself, he had generously given his own time to give Noelle extra training sessions to help strengthen her so that she may properly learn the art of swordfighting, a staple of the Akademy. Even after Rodger had graduated, the two had continued to spend time with one another. It had expanded beyond simple training sessions, including many night of sneaking out of the palace for a nighttime walk...they had become the best of friends. The sound of his voice shook Noelle from her reveries. "Are you all right?" asked Rodger. Once he'd noticed her distant look, his mirth had drained away. "I thought escaping to this safe place, and, well, my presence might wash away your worries." "I'm fine. It's just...I don't believe I handled that situation to the best of my ability." Rodger leaned in and hugged her close, as Noelle shivered again. Don't cry, she cursed herself. I'm 22 years old, not a child. Still, there was the comfort of being Rodger's little one, his wonderful, adored "little sister". "Dear cousin," he said affectionately. Few things could dispel the warmth in his eyes for long, something she'd always been grateful for. "What did you get yourself into?" The flush in her cheeks returned. Suddenly, Noelle felt very foolish. Rodger's expression, fond though it was, didn't help. It was the same expression he'd used for years: as if he were looking at a wayward and rather silly child who'd made some mischief. "I...I ordered my servants to give the Drakenaer some water in front of the peasants and townfolk," she mumbled. He stared at her in confusion. "So?" "It was illogical of me. Incredibly so. I didn't forsee the dissatisfaction it would cause amongst the peasants, with the tension of border conflicts; I wasn't anticipating anyone breaking into the courtyard. It's such a sudden change as well, and on a hot day, when tempers are close to the surface. Father would be ashamed to see my political sense desert me. He might not even let me clean up the mess. I'm such a fool." Rodger straightened up her slumped posture and gazed into her eyes. "I don't see a fool. I see a sweet young lady who tried her best to do what was right. It takes bravery and wisdom to do that: rare things that change worlds more than all the political posturing in the world." He gave her that smile again. Every word would be honestly meant; she knew that. Rodger just didn't see that it took much more than bravery and kindness. One had to think rationally about all the factors and consequences an action would have. She didn't say those thoughts aloud, of course. Instead, she blushed some more. "Uncle Woton would kill for a smile like yours." "No, he wouldn't. He only wounds people with his tongue. Besides, he finds me - ah, what was it? Perfectly charming, but a terrible bore at functions. Apparently my presence means that no one can partake in the time-honoured tradition of complaining together, because such gloom can't tolerate the brightness of my incessant cheerfulness." "Well, I think I've got just the thing to dull your incessant cheerfulness. There'll be several score letters to sign to summon the witnesses, and we've got to call an emergency court session, straighten out damages..." She fancied she could hear a clink as Rodger's smile dropped off his face. "All right," he sighed. "But only for you." ---- A knock on her carriage door startled Cressida out of her reverie. She opened the curtains, blinking in the sudden stream of sunlight. At first she couldn't make out the figure, silhouetted as it was against the bright sun. This, she realised, wasn't helped by the person's black hair and dark, elegant clothing. It was Lionel, a minor lordling from the edges of Fealhmere, whom Woton declared was entirely necessary to his journey if he hoped to have any kind of good conversation. Thinking of Woton's "necessities" made her sigh inwardly again. Woton had insisted on bringing not only a retinue of servants, but what appeared to be most of his pantry, cellars and "art objects". She'd asked what exactly he was planning, but her brother had simply waxed lyrical on the delight of spontaneity and uncertainty when it came to flourishes, i.e., he either had no idea or wasn't going to tell her until he'd had his amusement. Probably both. There'd be horrible confusion, Woton would somehow escape it with nothing but smile and charm, and no doubt she'd be the one clearing away the mess. With the Drakenaer around, she feared that people would be hurt this time. She wished Bailey were there to stop it; she was good at damage control, if only by being more intimidating and damaging than everyone else (though never to her beloved little sister Cressie, of course - she was only ever protective of her). Could she do something to prevent it like Bailey would? Those thoughts had occupied her during the few days of their journey to Jinan so far, along with some slight discontent. Why hadn't he brought any of his court along with him, aside from Lionel? Servants were all very well, but Cressida yearned to show some nobles the loveliness of her realm, in the hope they might stay or at least offer an alliance. It was so difficult to attract attention to her gardens at such a distance from the capital. She showed none of this on her face, instead smiling sweetly. "Yes, Lord Haefshir?" "I beg pardon for intruding, your Highness," Lionel said, with a pained expression. "But could you please inform your brother that he's being ridiculous?" "I'm glad that you've noticed. It's terrible to devote all one's energies to maintaining a state of being that's truly ridiculous, and to have no one notice. It'd be even better if an enemy commented on it, rather than a friend." Woton trotted his horse towards Lionel and Cressida, keeping time with her carriage. "Good afternoon, dear sister. That must be a fascinating carriage you have there, give the time you've spent inside it. Staring at the walls, I suppose? I quite understand: sometimes I feel the need to glare at terrible wallpaper. It relieves stress." "My dear brother, I do hope you haven't been shocking poor Lord Haefshir with your outlandish sayings. And after dragging him all this way into the wilderness as well! Though I'm so very glad for his company." She gave Lionel a quick, shy smile. It was quite true, after all. He was always unfailingly polite towards her, and already seemed to treat her quite fondly. "I assure you, I'm quite used to his rambling. My advice is to ignore him; he's really performing for an audience of one." If Cressida had blinked, she probably would have missed Lionel's grin. It crossed his face like lightning from a clear sky. "You force me to perform alone by telling everyone that, Lionel. It's horrid how you go about saying things that are perfectly and utterly true - right in front of me, too! At least have the decency to do it behind my back." Lionel gave an immaculate bow - rather a feat from atop a horse. "My apologies. I'll correct that immediately by whispering some of your more embarrassing secrets to your sister." "Please don't!" he cried. "What's the point of having beloved kin, if one can't keep secrets from them?" "Stop, stop!" Cressida laughed. "Your words are flying completely over my poor head. Do explain yourself, brother." "Lionel's given you entirely the wrong idea. It's the simplest, most logical plan in the world. I believe he's simply frustrated that most of the organising will fall upon him." "I don't mind taking the organising away from you, when you clearly have enough difficulty with organising your own thoughts. Woton, how did the Gods put it into your head that the Drakenaer would like dancing?" "They have all the other hallmarks of civilisation: religion, bickering about leaders, wars, diseases, even trousers... I'm sure they're quite as civilised as we are." Cressida stared at her brother, having caught only one word. "Dancing?" "What else does one usually do at a ball?" asked Woton. "The only question is how we might send invitations, and to whom." He tsked impatiently in response to her incredulous stare. Well, it was unlikely to be blithely accepted even with my reputation, he thought ruefully. I ought to make note of the limits of foolishness. "We are operating from entirely the wrong perspective: to wit, that they are entirely different to us." It did nothing to change his sister's expression. She spoke quietly and slowly, as if she'd realised just how soft in the head her elder brother was. "Brother, you know I hate to say it, but you have to admit that they Drakenaer are different from us. You don't keep any, so you fail to see their danger. Even compared to peasants, they're sullen, brutish and entirely primitive." She shook her head sadly. "One day we might be able to lead them slowly towards civilisation, but you can't expect them to change so suddenly. It might not ever happen, given how little they've changed in the last three hundred years." "Brutish, certainly." He made a small sound of disgust. "I dislike dealing with it as much as you do - there's quite enough aesthetic blindness in our society, which is a fault greater than any sin. And that is what makes them like us precisely! If nothing else, a little common ground is required for diplomacy." He held up a hand to ward off her protests. "Let's try another tack. Have you thought about why a ball?" Cressida almost choked holding back what Bailey would have replied: Because the only thing you're good for is dancing, Wot-Wot. As fond as she was of him - really, truly fond, in a way that only siblings with no one else could understand - it was difficult to take anything seriously when it was spoken in those lilting tones. Wearing the confused smile saved her again. He turned to Lionel in exasperation, pleading for support. "Why do we hold balls?" "Ah!" For a brief moment, Lionel's normally neutral expression lit up. "Of course. I must be getting slow due to all your absences recently." "It's one thing entirely to have a confrontation between two skilled politicians at a meeting table in front of our King. It's quite another when we dine and dance," Woton explained to Cressida. "When we sit the Steward and the Justice next to the Chancellor of the Exchequer who has pronounced their bill entirely unworkable, forcing them to pass dishes and make light conversation, that is when we see them. It's difficult to maintain one's political manoeuvring while engaging in the social and actual dances." "And the unfamiliarity of the situation will make it doubly effective against the Drakenaer. Framed as an introduction to our society... I still think it's largely unworkable, but you're right, there's merit to it. How can we get past that initial familiarity barrier? They're simply too alien, those lizards..." The two men drifted away, engaged in their discussion. Cressida could hardly believe how happy they seemed: like two gleeful little boys who have just devised a perfect prank. Sometimes, I forget why Frederick sends him out on all these diplomatic missions, she reflected. She let the curtain slip back in place, leaving just a slit through which she could spot her brother and his friend. Still, most people think he's insane, and even I suspect they're not far off the mark. How on earth does he deal with such a reputation? To be disapproved of, rejected, mocked - as much as one can openly do those things to a noble. There will always be whispers surrounding him. He played a far too dangerous game for these circumstances. It'd be best for everyone, including her brother, if she prepared something privately. A safety net or back-up plan of some sort. She shuddered delicately at the thought that Woton might be hurt. What could she do about it? The same thoughts which Lord Haefshir had interrupted came back to her. Eventually, she reached her conclusion. Family always turns to family for help. ---- (8bit) Two envelopes lay on the desk, lit by the soft mid-morning sun. The closed one, marked with the royal crest, was resentfully covered by the open one with the less ornate magisterial crest, featuring a simple pair of scales with minor embellishment. Elladia, having read over the court summons three times to make sure the whole thing wasn't a dream, checked it over a fourth time to properly get the address and courtroom down, left her room, adjusting her replacement brooch nervously. As if a librarian could stand up to a judge... she thought nervously. Millie met her just outside the main scriptorium, looking her best; at least, the best in Millie's eyes, society be damned. Elladia noticed that the deep purple of her dress robes matched the clot and bruises across her lip and face. She dully registered Millie's greeting and boarded the carriage to the courthouse, riding in silence, remembering the Drakenaer passage she had read the previous night. Tomorrow we march, and tomorrow we fall. What would the consequences of this trial be? Would her librarian and Maester titles be enough to jusify her actions? Maester, she thought ruefully. It wasn't her status that drove her to her actions yesterday, it was anger. Anger at the sheer ignorance of people, anger at their willingness to trample Millie underfoot in their bloodlust... and anger at herself, wildly cheering on the flames. Anger was the catalyst; renewing itself again and again. "Elladia, listen to me!" Millie was shouting before Elladia finally broke away from her thoughts and met her eyes. "I was just saying how you can't beat yourself up for wot's happened! Just remember, you stopped the riot. If anything, the court should be getting on their bleedin' knees and thanking you for doing their job!" "Thank you, Millie. We'll make sure to get a good attorney. I was wondering, though.... why did every librarian get a summoning letter, when only the two of us were involved in the riot?" "Oh, no no, darling girl, those letters were from the royals, not the magistrate. Ah, but let's not fuss over that just now! The trial's more important." More important than a letter from a lord or lady? Elladia pondered. But Millie was right; focus on the task at hand. Their carriage stopped in front of the white marble steps of the Courthouse, and the driver coughed loudly to indicate they should get out of his vehicle. Elladia guessed he was probably used to dawdling defendants. The pair stepped lightly onto stone and made their way into the Courthouse, glancing upwards at its signature glass dome, which cast the sun's rays in a dance around the central hub. There were five hallways leading outward from this room, each paved with a different color stone; Elladia and Millie took the one constructed of red granite and knocked on the first door on the left, Room 301. "Maester Tomei and Oliver?" inquired a voice from within. "You could open the bloody door and find out..." Millie responded. A perplexed silence ensued, followed by a genial "Well, that answers my question! Come in, if you will. Or, better yet..." The door opened to the hand of a tall, thin, red-haired man with thick black glasses and a smile to match his voice. "I'm Attorney Sobralske. Your Attorney Sobralske." It was said almost like a catchphrase. "Thank you for representing us, Attorney," Elladia murmured. "Careful, Lala, this is some bloke appointed by the magistrate," warned Millie. "Actually," replied Soralske in a continually chipper tone, "I requested this assignment. I rather appreciated the riot being broken up before something worse happened... or is it not that obvious? Please, sit down." He rubbed his cheek as he seated himself across a table from them, and Elladia took a good look at this face to see a network of scars running from the right side of his forehead to his neck. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You got caught up in the riot?" "Quite accidentally. Lawyer types generally aren't the best at getting out of fights." said Sobralske. "Minor flesh wounds," Millie scoffed, but her attitude towards the attorney had clearly reversed itself. "We do thank you for taking our case, though we're completely innocent. La- Elladia is licensed to handle these kinds of things." "The graver issue is intent. Maester Tomei certainly has the credentials to have these chemicals on her person, but my defense rests on your motivation to use them," said Soralske, steepling his fingers and looking at the two as if they were the most interesting people in the world. "The riot, as you know, involved Drakenaer day laborers and human peasants; each side blaming the other for starting the quarrel. After a certain amount of time, while I was caught between a couple of thugs earning these 'minor flesh wounds' in the chaos, the riot was dispersed by-" he lowered his fingers, revealing a smile sent straight at Elladia, "-Maester Tomei. Now, the question is, were you acting on behalf of a particular side? It would be difficult if you were siding with the Drakenaer." Sobralske raised his fingers over his mouth again. "Excuse me, but why would it matter if I had been acting in favor of the Drakenaer?" said Elladia. "Well," replied the attorney, "certain crimes take incorporate different sentences based on racial profiling. You may imagine Drakenaer tend to face stiffer penalties for similar crimes, and benefit of the doubt thrown against them more often than not. I'm no Drakenaer advocate, but I can tell you what the laws say. They aren't very keen on committing arson for the sake of a Drakenaer." "I-I stood up for the Drakenaer, but I didn't start the fire until Millie was snatched from me," said Elladia. Sobralske nodded. "Yes, I remember it went that way. Maester Tomei started the fire not specifically with pro-Drakenaer intent, but with the aim to dispel the riot in general. This is how it went." The smile appeared again. "So the reason why she started the fire is more important than all the chemicals she used to start it in the first place?" asked Millie. "I guess that's right with me..." Sobralske came close to a frown but managed to rally. "There is the issue of a large amount of stonesalt found in the back of your cart...." Elladia's eyes widened. She had completely forgotten about the stonesalt. And Mr. Hale.... "But that's minor compared to the case at hand. The trial will likely not be held for a couple hours yet, so I'm going to correspond with the judge. The prosecutor will be in to see you next for preliminary questioning, then the judge." A nervous glance shot between Elladia and Millie, drawing a surprisingly loud laugh from the attorney. "Don't worry, they won't be half as bad as I was. Just keep to what we said and you'll be fine." As he made to leave, Millie spoke up: "Attorney? Would you mind stopping back in here after the prosecutor is finished? We - Maester Tomei would appreciate it." Sobralske gave another trademark smile. "I'd love to." The door closed. "What was that supposed to mean?" asked an incredulous Elladia. Millie giggled. "Oh don't be daft, he was calling you 'Maester Tomei' the whole time." ---- Two envelopes lay on the desk. The closed one, marked with the royal crest, was resentfully covered by the open one with a much less ornate crest, featuring a simple black "D" with minor embellishment. Bailey, having read over the letter multiple times to make sure everything was according to plan, set it back down and tore open the disgruntled royal envelope. She had always admired Cressida's handwriting. The letter was immaculate; Bailey even felt a twitch of guilt for mutilating the envelope. However, when she read the content behind the calligraphy, she shook her head and placed the letter on top of its rival. Darling Cressie, you're trying so hard to expand our kingdom. A shame you have to babysit our idiot brother, but don't worry.... I'll be along for the ride. ---- After Attorney Sobralske had departed, Millie and Elladia had several dragging minutes to marvel at how incredibly drab his office was. "Don't you find it odd that we, the prosecutor, and the judge have free reign of this chap's room?" Millie asked incredulously, while Elladia pursed her lips and feigned interest in a rather boggy painting of a Feahlmere landscape. "I mean, he is an odd chap," continued Mille, "but I'd wage we're like to see odder in this... aah..." The door had opened discreetly and in had breezed a black-suited man with a face as thin and sharp as a razor. His expression betrayed nothing as he pulled up a chair next to Millie but refrained from sitting in it. "It would benefit us all if my time here remains short," he said as means of an introduction, resting his hands on the back of the unoccupied chair. "I'm the prosecutor handling this case, and I will arrive straight to the point - you do realize that the use of vitriol and possession of stonesalt in a public arena is damning evidence enough in this case?" "If we believed that, we wouldn't have been arsed to travel to this stuffy house of farces in the first place!" began Millie. Elladia desperately interrupted, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. "It is my objective to show that I had no intent to further the riot nor damage royal property. My attorney and I hope to prove my neutrality and innocence in this matter." "Mm...It appears Sobralske has already gotten to you," sniffed the prosecutor as he shook his head, which caused his too-long, graying hair to wobble. "It appears I would be wasting my time lingering here. "Very well, we shall have our time in court. I suggest you take responsibility for your actions, Maester Tomei, or you shall not find yourself a Maester for very long. I am always willing to engage in plea deals. Farewell." He was already out the door at the last sickeningly polite word. "He never told us his name," worried Elladia as the tapping of the prosecutor's shoes faded away. "Who bleeding cares?" scoffed Millie. ---- "Rodger, it would ease my mind greatly if you were present at the trial." Noelle anxiously refitted her collar, having just sent a messenger to the attorney's room to explain the charges against the defendant in her stead. "Many commonfolk are out for blood, and I do not wish to make a scapegoat of anyone." "Then don't." Rodger replied simply, smiling as he gently released her gloved hand. "If only I could be with you, I would, but there are several other officials that would like to have a word with me about their property damage. It is my hope that I shall not have to deal with anymore 'bleeding cabbages'." Two guards opened the broad double doors of the courthouse, letting in bright midday sunlight that framed his silhouette as he made to leave. "The law is your fortress, not mine, and no army or mob can take it away from you. I believe in justice, Noelle, as much as I believe in you." Rodger made a mock salute, smiled, and strolled out into the sun. ---- Elladia pressed her hand to her forehead as she languished in the witness box, having just been excoriated by the prosecutor, whose name she had heard but had promptly been forgotten under a barrage of questioning. She had admitted to launching the bottle of vitriol during the riot, but the issue of the stonesalt had been touched upon very lightly and then seemingly forgotten. "The attorney for the defense will now step forward for cross-examination," announced Magistrate Pelharm, resplendent once more in her plum robes and holding the the gavel like a shield. Prosecutor Uffizi certainly knows what he wants, and he believes the case to be a no-brainer... But the decision is mine, and mine alone. She watched as the red-haired man strode to the front of the room and gave a smart little cough, beginning conversation with Elladia like they had known each other for years instead of hours. "Miss Tomei, if I may ask again, what was the primary reason for your use of vitriol during the riot?" "To prevent any further harm to Millie, who was about to be clubbed," she said tiredly. Make no mention of the anger she felt when threatened, the euphoria in the terror and confusion wrought by her hands. "Miss Tomei, you are licensed to handle substances such as vitriol by your certification as a chymist, yes?" She nodded, staring at the bespectacled eyes alight with the all theater of the courtroom. Sobralske turned to the audience, which included a nail-biting Millie at the defense table, with hands outstretched, and - of course - smiled. "The riot, in which the defendant took no sides, was dispelled quickly due to her arrival. Dispelled by smoke - I would take that any day over a club." His right hand indicated Millie, who blushed furiously, but not enough to cover the violent purple splotches on her face. "Objection, Your Honor!" Prosecutor Uffizi crowed "Multiple witnesses clearly state that woman was engaging in pro-Drakenaer propaganda immediately prior to the riot, and may indeed be the cause of it! I move that she also be put on the witness stand as an accomplice to the defendant!" "Irrelevant! There is one lady on trial, and the witnesses you speak of are surely-" "Overruled," called out Noelle, rapping the gavel timidly. "Please do not overreach the confines of this trial. We are judging whether Miss Tomei is guilty of arson and assault, as well as possession of illicit substances." She resumed her silent perch atop the magistrate's chair, nodding at the attorney to continue. "Maester Tomei - for indeed she is a Maester, certified - used the vitriol as the thug would have used his club, but with the aim to subdue the situation. Everyone's emotions were running high that day; think of how far the riot could have escalated if Maester Tomei had not quelled it with her noble intentions. What I see is a group of misguided men, caught up in the heat of the moment, who turned their anger towards their fellow Humes, and a woman who acted not out of bias or hate, but out of an understandable concern for her friend. The defense rests." The audience were slow to resume their murmurings as Sobralske returned to his chair, followed to the table by a wobbly Elladia. She had been watching them the entire time, noting especially their palpable agreement with the attorney upon his mentioning of "their fellow Humes." The decision, however, rested ultimately with Magistrate Pelharm, whose glass-gray eyes looked at no one in particular in the room as she deliberated her sentence. Elladia watched nervously as Noelle cleared her throat, a demure action that commanded the silence of the entire room. She pounded the gavel once more for ceremony than circumstance, as everyone was intently awaiting her judgment. "This court finds the defendant, Elladia Tomei, guilty..." At this, Millie uttered an audible "No!" but Sobralske placed a hand on her arm to quiet her, not bothering to even look at her, but instead refocusing his gaze on Noelle, as if daring the rest of the room to follow suit after Millie's outburst. Noelle resumed in a quieter voice than before: "...Guilty of possession of an illicit substance not authorized by the Board of Chymia. The penalty for such a violation varies and is not within my jurisdiction, and thus I shall notify said board of my ruling, to be evaluated at their leisure. On all other charges, including those of arson and assault, I find the defendant not guilty. This court is adjourned." The hand Sobralske was resting on Millie's arm clenched as he made a celebratory fist-pump to coincide with the magistrate's final slam of the gavel. ---- (NeoZEROX) Searching though different types thread and yarn, the young woman hummed to herself, enjoying her afternoon. She picked the materials she wished to purchase. "Found what you need for today, Ms. Shyamala?" Own asked the woman while giving her a friendly smile. "Yep, was running out of these colors; besides, it seemed to be too lovely evening to stay inside. Any excuse to get out to enjoy this sunset." She smiled back at owner and gave the man her gold. She placed the items she purchased into her bag and set out. While walking back to her home she looked at the sunset, seeing the town glow golden by the light. "Little lizard freak, why don't you go back to where you crawled out from!" The woman turned to see a group of men yelling and abusing the small Drakenaer girl, wearing nothing but a worn, torn dress. Wasting no time, she ran to group shouting from the top of her lungs. "Hey! Leave the poor girl alone!" "Pffft, why should you give a damn?" One then questioned her as they all turn to face her. "The little freak was just standing here in way while we're just trying get some fun! We told the little bitch beat it, but she keep saying, 'I need wait for mommy'. Little freak doesn't get that maybe her bitch mother likely abandoned her." The group of men followed up by laughing at the poor child. "That is no way to speak to child! Doesn't matter if she is a Drakenaer, you shouldn't treat children like that!" She walk past the men to check on the girl. "You okay there, with those cuts and bruises?" "Hey bitch, what the hell are you doing? Get out of our way so we can teach this brat a lesson!" "No, if anyone needs be taught a lesson, it's you fine gentlemen. You'll have to get through me if you wish to harm this child anymore!" Woman rose up to face the men, keeping them away from the poor girl. "What, you gonna fight us lady?" The men laughed at her, thinking she could stand a chance. "No, but I am going to protect this girl. Strike me down if you wish" "Hehe, I see, fine then." The man threw a punch at the woman's face, knocking off her bag in front the child. "This isn't some fairytale princess. I'm not going back off while you play hero for little scaly freak. If you know what good for you run now." "Heh, I wasn't expecting you men to run. No, a real man wouldn't lay a hand on a woman, and especially not a child. You're just children, acting all big when you're really just small pathetic boys trying to show off to others." She showed them a smug smile after mocking the men. "You little fucking bitch!"The man threw another punch at woman in his rage. "You're just bad as the little freak behind her; anyone stupid enough to stand up for those freaks is no better then them!" The man punched her again in her stomach, knocking her down. "Had enough playing hero bitch, or you want some more!" She struggled to try to get back up while coughing from the blow. She looked up at the man getting ready for another blow until she saw someone striking the man back. "Maybe you all should just leave, if you know what's good for you," said the man who struck the abuser. Soon after, a group of people watching started insulting and throwing stuff at the group of men, trying to chase them out. "God damn, fuck you all. Come on let's get out here." The group ran out, trying get away from the mob. "You okay, Miss?" said the man who defended her while helping her back up "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for helping us." She reached out for his hand to help her up. "That's pretty noble of you to protect that child." "It's nothing, just knew someone needed to protect her." She turned to the child to check on her again. "It's okay now, the bad men are gone. Don't be shy now." She smiled at the child, trying to get her to feel safe. "Th...thank you... miss..." the timid child tried to thank her with her head down. She turned to speak to the man, letting him know that they'd be okay now. "We should be okay; just leave the child to me. Don't want to intimidate her any more than she already has been." Seeing him nod to her and head out, she turned back to the child. "Don't worry, no need be scared. Here, let me tell you my name: I'm Lovella, what's yours?" "Z...Zonia" Lovella smile back at her, "That's a nice name. Come on, let's sit down. I should treat those cuts you have." "But I need to stay here and wait for mommy!" "Don't worry, we won't be to far off. I'll stay here and wait with you." She tried to comfort the child and reached her hand out to lead her to a nearby bench. The girl hesitated at first, but then grabbed her hand, showing trust in Lovella. Grabbing her bag that had fallen earlier, Lovella led Zonia to the seat and searched in her bag for some bandages, then treated to the child's wounds. "Shouldn't you treat your own wounds, miss?" the child asked, still timid. "Don't worry about mine; they're aren't as bad. I may not look it, but I was raised to be a kinda tough girl," Lovella giggled while finish treating the girl. "You see, most of my childhood I was actually raised with you're kind, so I guess I kinda see myself as a Drakenaer." "I don't see what's great about being a Drakenaer. People just mistreat me and mommy. A lotta men always demand mommy to meet them too, like... right now." "I.. see... But trust me you shouldn't be ashamed of who you are. Trust me: Drakenaer can be just great as us humans. Yeah, there are some like those men who are just cruel, but there just many humans who see Drakenaer as equals." "Really, Ms. Lovella?" She looked up at the woman with her eyes wide. "Yep! Hmm.. how about I make you something while we wait?" she asked, smiling at Zonia while offering the gift as she took out a needle and some thread. "Make me something... like what Ms Lovella?" "I can try make you a stuffed toy if you want? Just something to pass the time and get to know each other while we wait." "Oh, I don't want bother you with it..." "It's no trouble. Sewing is something I enjoy, anyway. Now what would you like?" Zonia though for bit, thinking what she would like before answering. "Maybe... a kitty?" "Okay, a stuffed cat it is!" Lovella got out the stuff she needed and began making a stuffed toy for the girl. "So... uhm..." Zonia just watched her making the toy for her while trying to start a conversation. "You were raise by Drakenaer?" "Yep, they were the Noir tribe. They were really nice people, especially my adopted mother. She was a really kind woman who taught me a lot about them: their beliefs, even how to tend to flowers, and how to grow blue and black roses." "Wow, she seems nice. So what happened? Why did you leave?" "Well, it was my mother's idea. She wanted me live with other humans, so she entrusted me with friend of hers. He was another human who visited us for while. He was really interesting man, if idealistic. I guess even as a child I kinda had a little crush on him. He did inspire me for dream I wish would happen." "Oh, a dream, what was it? "I guess I dream of a day when our two races would live in peace, where we won't judge each other anymore. I know it sounds impossible but... I want to help him, and my mother. We share a common dream and I feel I need to try to achieve it." She opened up to the child more as she finish sewing the head of the stuffed cat. "I think you can do it, Ms Lovella. You helped me out, so I'm sure you can help others like me!" Zonia giggled, actually feeling relaxed now "Oh, thank you Zonia!" Lovella started giggling with the young child. As some more time passed the two girls grew a bit closer for their short time, until Zonia's mother return. "Mommy! You're back!" The child ran to her mother, hugging her. Lovella just smiled as she walked up to them. As she got closer, her fears were realized. The girl's mother was sweating, and her clothes looked like they had been put on in a rushed manner and carried a filthy smell. Zonia's mother looked up to Lovella, not noticing her until then. "Oh, we're sorry, we'll move out of your way..." "Mommy, this is Lovella, she helped me out a lot, and is making me a toy kitty!" "Yeah, well, it's not finished yet. It might take some more time," Lovella just smiled, trying not say anything about where the woman had been or what she did. "Did someone try to hurt my daughter? I'm sorry, I try telling her to wait somewhere where she won't be in the way, but I thank you for helping my little Zonia out. I hope she wasn't too much trouble.." "It's okay. I'm sorry if I won't be able to finish your kitty today, Zonia. If you like, we can meet up again tomorrow and I can give your kitty to you?" Lovella asked the child while giving her a smile. "Yeah! I'd love it if we can meet again!" Zonia said, showing her excitement to her new friend. "Before I go, please take this. I feel you two would need this more then me." Lovella handed the mother a bag carrying enough gold to last a month. "Oh L...Lovella, we can't take this! This is way too much for us...." said Zonia's mother, stunned by the woman's gift. "Don't worry about me. My family is pretty well off and you two need this more then me. Please take care, you two. I need to head back home before it gets too dark. I hope to see you two tomorrow!" Lovella smiled to the family while heading back home, waving farewell to the two.